


skeletons in the corners of your room

by toadsica



Category: Slender Man Mythos, Tribe Twelve
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Stalking, Swearing, Touchy-Feely, it's noah. come on, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 13:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14136684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toadsica/pseuds/toadsica
Summary: “noah,” observer says, quiet against the distant humming filling the room and the violent pounding in noah’s chest, “i’ve taken quite a liking to you.”





	skeletons in the corners of your room

**Author's Note:**

> so obsy is crushing hard. that's it that's the plot of this fic  
> noah isnt sure how to feel but uh damn?? he never knew observer looked this cute while stalking him wow????  
> hey habi late birthday sleet, this is ur present. i hope ur like ur shitty obsernoah fluff

when noah woke up, it wasn’t for any particular reason. he supposed there was just a hanging feeling that he  _ should  _ be waking up at three in the morning for virtually no reason other than to rob him of even more sleep. the first thing he sees is two white squares, the faint outline of a body and a shit-eating grin and of  _ course  _ the observer is here.

noah isn’t really surprised that the observer was able to stand at the side of his bed, merging with the darkness of the room, and go completely unnoticed. he isn’t sure if it’s the vicious pain in his ribs and the throbbing in his legs that makes him particularly irritable, or just that this was the  _ observer  _ and it’s the first time he’s actually seen him in his room with his own eyes.

“why do you just stand there and watch me sleep?” he grumbled, not even bothering to move or sit up in the slightest, “it’s creepy as fuck.”

the observer just tilts his head at him and grins broadly, only serving to piss noah off further. he wonders if he does it on purpose, everything he possibly can to be so infuriating, to drain noah’s energy by pushing him to waste it all on anger. noah’s about to say something when he closes his mouth and sighs, shakes his head, and sinks into his pillow again.

“whatever,” he huffs, “i’m going back to sleep.”

or, he  _ would  _ be, if observer didn’t sit right beside him on the edge of the bed not as soon as he finished that sentence. noah immediately shoots up and scoots further over, messing up the blankets in his haste. he swallows thickly and narrows his eyes, a very unsettling feeling settling in the chest.

“no you aren’t,” observer shakes his head, still grinning like the asshole that he is, and noah tries to say something in protest but is cut off prematurely, “i want to talk to you, noah.”

“yeah, feeling’s not mutual,” he scoffs, and the observer simply laughs at him. whatever it is he wants to talk about, noah is  _ really  _ not interested. he doubts observer would try to help him, if he can or not being irrelevant. 

“regardless,” he moved himself down the side of the bed and pat the spot next to his thigh, encouraging noah to move closer, “we’re talking anyways.”

noah stared at him for a good, long while, taking his sweet old time to be torn between confused, irritated, and strangely awestruck, before he drew out a disgruntled sigh and moved himself back towards the observer, putting his hands in his lap and sitting cross-legged on the side of the bed beside him.

“fine,” he sighs, “fine. we can talk.”

“good,” observer smiles at him, ear-to-ear, “i’m glad.”

there’s a brief window of silence between them, of observer staring at noah patiently and noah staring at the floor below him. 

“noah,” he says, final, and noah almost sighs in relief, “what’s your favorite color?”

“uh,” the question leaves noah uncharacteristically speechless, wracking his brain for words that don’t seem to be there. he tries to force something out but can only vocalize a stutter, eyes darting back and forth and  _ anywhere  _ but the observer.

observer just looks at him with a small but recognizable smile and noah finally gives in, sighing as he leans forward a bit and pushes some hair out of his face with one hand, “i dunno. never really had one, but i guess grey. i wear a lot of grey.”

“hm,” observer hums, looking at him sideways, “alright. what do you like in your coffee?”

he’s not sure how any of these questions are relevant but he answers anyways, because there’s no point in just bickering back and forth ‘til sunrise like children. he tells him that he just likes a teaspoon of sugar in it, usually, because otherwise it’s too sweet and if you put creamer or milk in it it’s not strong enough to keep you awake. 

the questions keep rolling in; favorite animal, food, book. sometimes words fail him for some reason and he has to take a minute to actually wrap his mind around the question. it may be because he’s rolling on three hours of sleep and observer isn’t letting him go back to bed, but he’s not sure.

eventually, it’s silent again. there’s the faint buzzing of the AC in the next room running but it’s not enough to distract them from how tense it is. 

“why are you here?” noah finally blurts out, and observer stares at him with concerning apathy that he finds beyond unsettling, “i know you didn’t come just to ask me a bunch of irrelevant questions.”

observer hums softly and noah almost falls off the bed with how violently he jerks when he feels observer’s hand come to stroke his forearm softly. he jerks his hand back and noah jerks his arm back all the same, but there’s something of understanding, disappointment and  _ confusion  _ on observer’s face that urges noah to put his arm back down and let him do what he wants.

so he does. he sighs, and settles back beside the observer, sitting cross-legged again. there’s more silence and then observer runs a soft hand up and down his arm, pushing up his sleeve in a way that makes him shiver and gives him goosebumps.

“there are things i want to tell you,” he says, soft as silk and it makes a lump form in noah’s throat, “but i can’t. not yet. perhaps not ever, but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to, noah.”

noah’s not sure when he turned to face him completely, but suddenly observer’s hands are pushing hair out of noah’s face and gently settling on his jaw, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. he’s frozen, and his face feels  _ really  _ hot, but he can’t make himself move. his muscles are stiff and his body’s all locked up and he wants to. he wants to say something (though he’s not sure what), and he just stutters awkwardly.

“noah,” observer says, quiet against the distant humming filling the room and the violent pounding in noah’s chest, “i’ve taken quite a liking to you.”

observer’s lips touch his. it’s cold, and then it’s  _ really  _ warm, and noah’s not kissing back because his bones feel like they’ve just replaced his entire body and now he’s a stiff skeleton sitting on a bed and being kissed by the observer. you know, the observer, the thing that’s made it his mission to drive noah insane. 

he’s not sure how long it lasts (not long) before observer pulls back and awkwardly wipes at his lips with the back of his hand. he starts to get up off the bed and noah’s mind goes blank with  _ nonononono _ and he grabs the back of observer’s shirt before he can stop himself and pulls. observer turns around in time and noah puts a hand on the back of his neck and kisses him  _ angrily.  _

it’s not very good at first: it hurts on impact, and he’s pretty sure observer accidentally bites his own lip at some point, but eventually it’s slow and purposeful and so  _ nice.  _ the observer is uncharacteristically warm against him and it may be the single most comforting thing he’s ever felt in his life.

observer puts both of his hands on noah’s shoulders and worms his way into his lap, legs bent at the sides of noah’s thighs. he hears him make some kind of noise when noah brings his hands to his sides and tugs him forward slightly, leaning upward into him. he’s not that heavy, which noah feels like should be alarming, but he’s too distracted kissing the hell out of him to care.

they stay like that for however long, taking short breaks to breathe but never moving more than four inches from each other. observer’s lips are gone in a flash and noah opens his eyes to only see the room empty, the coldness of the air suddenly settling on him and he shivers. 

he’s not sure why, but he reaches up and drags his fingers across his lower lip. noah’s doesn’t know what this is, what  _ that  _ was, but he can’t say he’s against it.


End file.
